Open Your Eyes
by CantStopWontStop
Summary: Katie Bell and Oliver Wood are best friends who just so happen to live together. Oliver is single and famous, Katie is engaged. As her wedding approaches, things become complicated as their true feelings arise.
1. Roommates

(Author's Note: Whoaaa. So it's been forever. So basically I was sitting on my couch, watching Grey's Anatomy, when bam! I was suddenly inspired. I was like, 'Stephanie, it's been forever. You need to get your fatass over to the computer and start writing… now.' So then I was like, 'Okay, inner conscience, whatever you say.' And here I am. Okay, okay, so that's not exactly how it went. But basically? I've decided to make my return. I'm sad to see the world's obsession with Harry Potter has died, though my obsession has gone down too. However, these stories are so fun to write, what do I have to lose? Besides, I still think Sean Biggerstaff is gorgeous. So here's the downlow on this new story…

It will, of course, be Katie Bell/Oliver Wood. Do I write anything else? I think not. It will be post-Hogwarts, and will be told in alternating points of view, between Katie and Oliver. And here's the official summary:

Katie Bell and Oliver Wood are best friends who just so happen to live together. Oliver Wood is a single, famous quidditch star, playing as the starting Keeper for Puddlemere United. Not to mention he's Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor. Katie Bell is working as a top Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital, and is engaged to a fellow coworker. As Katie's wedding approaches, things between she and Oliver become complicated, as their true feelings begin to arise.

So there you have it. Read, review, and most of all, enjoy.)

**Chapter 1: Work (Katie's POV)**

"Oliver James Wood!"

I stormed out of the bathroom, my hair dripping wet, my toothbrush in my hand, furious. My roommate looked up at me from where he was sitting on the couch. "What?" he asked, staring at me.

"You used my toothbrush!" I accused, waving my pink toothbrush at him.

He shrugged. "So?"

"So," I said. "Why don't you use your own?"

He shrugged again. "I couldn't find it."

I groaned and glared at him. "Stop using my stuff!"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Katers, but I do believe you're wearing my shirt right now, as we speak."

I looked down at myself in dismay, as I realized that, indeed, I was wearing his shirt. "Well, this is different," I said defensively. "Because I don't put your shirt in my mouth!"

He smiled slightly, to my displeasure. "Oh, come on," he said. "You're acting like you're 5."

"Well maybe I am!" I snapped. I wheeled around and stormed back into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

So Oliver and I have been living together for the past 3 years. But we've been best friends ever since I could talk. We grew up living next to each other and our families came to be good friends. We've had our share of bickering, but for the most part, we get along really well. I moved in with him after graduating from Hogwarts and the rest is history.

About 15 minutes later, I re-emerged from the bathroom, still sulking slightly. "What time is your match tonight?" I asked.

"Seven," Oliver replied. "You coming?"

"I don't know," I answered. "Maybe. Depends on whether I can get off or not." I checked my watch. "Anyways, I'll see you later." I pulled on my jacket and hurried out the door.

The walk to St. Mungo's from our flat is a short one. I stop by the same little café everyday and order a cappuccino and a muffin, then pass by the park until I reach the hospital. I entered and quickly made my way to the staff lounge, where my co-workers were pulling on their work robes. "Morning," I mumbled, shoving my purse into my locker.

"Hey, Katie," came the reply. I pulled on my work robes and pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail.

"Is Katie here yet?" I looked up and smiled at my fiancé, Chris, who had appeared in the doorway. "Ah, there you are," he said, putting an arm around me and kissing me. "So, I need you to remind me, even though I've asked you about twenty times, what color are your bridesmaid dresses?"

"Light blue," I replied.

"Gotcha," he said, kissing me on the cheek. "I won't forget this time, I promise."

I smiled lightly and crossed the room, where there was a large board on the wall. I found my name and checked my assignments. "Pixie attack? That's the third time this week."

"Better than Bowtruckles," Chris muttered. "I suppose I'd better go." He kissed me on the cheek again and left the room.

"So when's the wedding date?" I turned around to look at Olivia, another one of my co-workers, who was still in the room getting dressed.

"June 16th," I replied. "Are you coming?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I'm still not sure."

I mentally rolled my eyes. Why did I invite her in the first place? Oh wait, I didn't. Chris did. "Well, I hope you can come," I said politely. And I left the room.

I hurried down the corridor to room 407, where a woman was sitting up in bed, her hand bandaged. "Hello, Miss…" I checked my clipboard. "…Berkely. I'm Katie Bell. I'll be taking care of you today."

The woman looked up at me and smiled. "Good, because this hurts like hell." She lifted up her arm and I smiled.

"Well let me take a look at it." I took off the bandages and studied her hand. "The good news," I said. "Is that it's not too deep. Pixies don't generally have very long teeth. However, you are at risk for an infection. Unfortunately, there is no spell to prevent Pixie infection, so I need to give you some medicine. I'll get that for you and then I think you'll be free to go." I left the room and returned, after a trip to the Medicine and Antidotes room, with a tiny bottle of medicine. I handed it to Miss Berkely. "You should take 2 spoonfuls of this twice a day. I'm sorry to say it tastes awful, but it'll prevent Pixie infection and relieve some of the pain. If you experience any more pain, or your skin begins to burn after 24 hours, come back and see me." The woman thanked me and I handed her some paperwork as she left the room.

As the workday ended, I collapsed on the bench in the staff room and closed my eyes. "Rough day?" I cracked an eye open to see Chris standing over me.

"You wouldn't believe," I muttered. "I mean honestly, who tries to swordfight with a hippogriff? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard of!"

Chris laughed and sat next to me. "I didn't get anything much better. That Bowtruckle attack was brutal."

I sighed and rested my head in his lap. "If we ever meet in our next life, remind me to become a gold digger and marry a rich man so I won't need to work."

Chris kissed me on the forehead. "I'll do that." He played with my hair. "So do you want to go get something to eat?"

I shook my head. "No, I can't. I promised Oliver I'd go to his match if I got off in time."

Chris sighed. "All right. But don't forget about our date Friday night."

I smiled up at him. "Of course I won't."

The stadium was loud, as usual, and there were lights and movement everywhere as I took my usual seat. The quidditch players were still warming up for the match and I waved at Oliver, who glanced at me and waved back. This had sort of become our weekly ritual. I'd always sit in the same seat, in the front row, right behind the Puddlemere goal posts, and I'd wave to Oliver, who would wave back, much to the dismay of the teen girls who liked to crowd the area and giggle at Oliver's every movement during the matches.

"Oh my god!" I heard one of them say. "He's waving at me!"

"No he's not," another one said. "He's waving at that girl there." I could just imagine her pointing at the back of my head.

"Is that Katie Bell? The girl that's always in the paper with him?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"But they're not really dating, are they?"

"I heard she's engaged."

"To Oliver?"

"No."

"Oh… Good."

"Shh! Don't let her hear you!"

I rolled my eyes and the match started.

As Oliver emerged from the locker rooms, I jumped on his back. "Great match," I said. "That last save was spectacular."

"Thanks," he grunted, holding onto my legs. "How was work?"

"Lame, stressful, chaotic," I replied. "Nothing new."

"Hmm, sounds like you," he said. I kicked him in the side and he grunted. "So do you want to get something to eat?" he asked.

"Yeah, but can we stop at the store first?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied. "What do you need?"

"_You_ need a toothbrush," I said.

He sighed. "Fine. But can I get a pink one like yours?"

I didn't reply.

* * *

Repetition is something that occurs to all of us. We all have our little daily rituals and habits that eventually just come natural to us. Sure, sometimes these rituals are sometimes interrupted, but for the most part, they become part of our daily lives.

Every morning, I wake up, get dressed, go to work. It's like a never-ending cycle. That's why I embrace the weekends with more enthusiasm than most people.

Chris and I have a weekly ritual of going out to eat on Friday nights and walking through the park.

As we walked, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets as a chilly wind swept past. "Cold?" Chris asked me. I nodded and he draped his jacket over my shoulders. "So I was thinking," he said.

"Oh you were?" I amused.

He nodded and continued. "I was thinking that we live on the other side of the city."

"What for?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"Well, I just think it'd be a nice change of scenery. We could live in an actual house over there," he said.

"But it's so much further from the hospital," I noted.

"I suppose that's true," he said. "But just consider, okay?"

I nodded. "I will."

"And besides," he continued, much to my dismay. "Wouldn't it be nice to live in a house, instead of that flat with Oliver?"

I shrugged. "But I like my flat. It's home to me."

He slipped an arm around my waist as we left the park. "Well, just give it some thought."

It's no secret that Chris has always felt… threatened by Oliver. Which strikes me as incredibly funny. I mean, I guess he has the right to be concerned, since I live with Oliver, but it's nothing like he thinks it is. Chris and I began dating about 6 months after I graduated from Hogwarts and moved in with Oliver. He proposed about a year ago, and our wedding is set for April.

"Well I've also been thinking," I said, making an attempt to lead the subject in another direction. "And I was thinking we could honeymoon in Jamaica."

"Mmm, Jamaica?" he repeated as we approached my flat. "That sounds nice."

"Then Jamaica it is."

We both climbed the steps to the front door and he kissed me. "So I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I might be going to my parents' place. My mom and I still have a few more minor details we want to get planned out."

He nodded. "Well stop by if you have the chance, okay?"

I nodded and kissed him. "Okay." We said goodbye and I went inside.

Oliver was sitting at the table, asleep. I smiled and prodded him awake. "Hey Ol," I whispered. "Wake up."

"Whassuhmatter?" he mumbled, looking up.

"I think you fell asleep," I answered, sitting in a chair across from him.

"Oh." He stared at me for a moment. "How was your date?"

"It was fine," I replied.

"That's good." We sat in silence for a moment and I studied him out of the corner of my eye.

So here is where I'll be completely honest. Oliver Wood is an incredibly good-looking man. I mean _incredibly_ good-looking, like you wouldn't believe. The only thing is? He doesn't date. He doesn't date, he doesn't have girlfriends, he doesn't have "lady friends," he just… doesn't. Which is something I still can't quite figure out. I mean, women literally throw themselves at him every day. He's Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor. But he just doesn't seem to have any interest in dating.

Oliver yawned and stood up. "I'm going to bed," he said.

I stood up and jumped on his back. "Good, you can take me there too."

"To my bed?" he asked, grinning at me. I kicked him in the side and he yelped, much to my amusement. "Don't do that!" he demanded.

"Well don't be such a perv!" I retorted back.

"You're the one who told me to take you to bed," he said.

"To _my_ bed," I defended.

"Okay, we can go there if you'd prefer."

I made an attempt to kick him again, but he grabbed my leg and I fell off his back and hit the floor with a loud thump. "Ow!" I whined. He picked me up and began to carry me to my room. "I think my arm is broken," I complained. "You broke it."

"Well if you didn't kick me all the time, I wouldn't have had the need to," he retorted, tossing me on my bed. He turned around to leave and I tossed a pillow at the back of his head. He picked it up and hurled it at me. I screamed and covered my head as it bounced off my leg. "'Night Katers," he said, turning off the light.

"'Night."

(Phew! So, how was it? A bit dull, I know. It'll pick up in time, just be patient. Speaking of which, I honestly don't know when I'll be able to update again. We're right in the middle of football season, and I'm a majo, meaning practices and games every week. Also, softball is starting up again, which takes my weekends away. Oh, and homework is a bitch this year. But be patient and review and I promise to update ASAP.)


	2. Two Months

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okayyy, so I've decided to make my return. Again. I really don't have much to say, other than I hope that I'll stick with this. And you might want to go re-read the first chapter, just to catch up. OH!, and just to fix the confusion that ensued in the first chapter, the wedding date is June 16. JUNE 16 JUNE 16 JUNE 16. Sorry for my lack of mental awareness. Also, please note that my writing has changed over the past year, hopefully for the better. So anyway, on we go! Review review review!

**Chapter 2**

(Katie's Point of View)

By the time Friday rolled around, I was exhausted, tired, and distressed. Wedding plans don't mix well with PMS. Two months to go, Katie. Two months to go.

I managed to get off work a little early to slip home and take a quick shower before my date with Chris. Oliver was asleep on the couch and _"Sex and the City"_ was muted on the TV. I nudged him with my knee and he rolled over, turning his back to me.

"Wake me up in 20 minutes," he mumbled.

I raised my eyebrows at him and nudged him again. "I can't," I said. "I'm going out with Chris soon. Get up. You have a match in 2 hours."

"Yes, Mother," Oliver sighed, sitting up slowly. A small silence fell between us and I turned to glance at the TV.

"So," I started. "Are you a Carrie or a Samantha fan?"

"What?" Oliver gave me a black stare.

"Nevermind," I sighed. "I guess you're not a true fan."

"Katie, what the hell are you talking about?" Oliver demanded.

"Nothing," I sang out before making my way toward the bathroom.

* * *

I met Chris at our favorite bistro on the outskirts on the city. We discussed the day's medical cases and a couple of wedding details before Chris got what I call his "Serious Face" on. "Katie," he started. "I want to discuss something with you. It's about your friend Oliver."

"Okay, seriously Chris," I said. "You've known Oliver for two years and have become fair acquaintances. Will you stop referring to him as that?"

"Sorry," Chris apologized quickly. "But anyway, it's about your current situation."

"Current situation?" I repeated blankly.

"Yeah," Chris continued. "You know, your living together."

"What about it?"

"I don't think I'm comfortable with it."

"Chris," I sighed. "You know all too well that Oliver and I are just friends."

"That's what you think."

"Excuse me?" I realized I was beginning to raise my voice.

"Look, Kate," Chris said calmly, reaching for my hand. "I know that you're devoted to me. I know that you love me and that you're ready to marry me. But I'm not sure Oliver feels the same way you do."

"It's really not any of your b-"

"It's more than my business," he snapped, suddenly losing his calm composure. "You're my fiancé. I don't want some guy going after you."

"He's not some guy, Chris," I said hotly. "He's my best friend."

"And his intentions are more than that."

"He doesn't have intentions!" I exclaimed. "He's… he's… he's Oliver!"

"You'll see it someday, Kate," Chris said. "But just consider moving out, okay?"

"Right," I spat sarcastically. "Because you have _so_ much room at your place for me."

"Well, no," Chris said. "But we'll be getting our own place in two months."

"Exactly," I pointed out. "You can't just wait another two months?"

"Well, no," Chris repeated again. "Because these next two months are crucial."

"Crucial? Why?"

"Because Oliver's going to realize that he's about to lose you," Chris explained. "And then he's going to finally make a move on you."

"Oliver is _not_ going to be making any moves on me," I defended. "First of all, because he doesn't have feelings like that and second of all, because he's above that low level." I gazed at him, my eyes narrowing slightly. "You've sure put a lot of thought into this."

"Of course I have," Chris said. "I know what Oliver's going to be after."

My cool gaze turned into an icy glare. "You know what?" I stood up, slinging my purse over my shoulder. "I'm going to go."

"Kate, wait," Chris begged, squeezing my hand. "I'm trying to make a point here."

"You've made your point clear, Chris," I said, pulling my hand away. "You obviously don't trust me, or my best friend."

"I trust you," Chris insisted, pushing his chair back to leave with me.

"No, you don't. Because if you did, you wouldn't care about Oliver in the first place." I slipped my jacket on and turned to face him. "I'll see you later, okay?" I turned and left, pushing my way out into the rain.

**Oliver's Point of View**

I stepped out of the locker rooms, turning away from the reporters and cameramen. Pulling my hood up over my head, I did a double take as I spotted Katie standing nearby, her hair clinging to her face in the rain. "Katie!" I called out to her. She turned and waved as she saw me, pushing her way through the stream of people. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "I thought you had a date."

"I did," she replied bitterly. I frowned slightly at her harsh tone.

"What happened?"

"Chris is being ridiculous," she sighed. We shoved our way past another group of paparazzi and I put my hand up to fend off the cameramen.

"Oliver!" a brunette reporter shouted. "Oliver, will you and Ms. Bell pose for a picture?" I shouldered my way past her, pulling Katie behind. "Oliver," the reporter called after me. "How do you feel about Katie's upcoming wedding?" We made our way out of the stadium and onto Main Street.

"So why is Chris being ridiculous?" I asked. Was it wrong that I received great joy in Katie's anger toward the git?

…Probably. But I didn't care.

"He just…" She fell silent. "Ugh, it's just so absurd! …He doesn't want us living together anymore."

"Why not?" I asked, turning to look at her.

"Because he claims that we're going to hook up," she said flatly.

Oh, I'm counting down the days.

"He… he said that?" I asked, trying to feign surprise.

"Yeah," she muttered. "I mean, honestly. It _is_ possible for two people of the opposite sex to be friends. Especially since we've been friends for what, 18 years?"

"Yeah, since we were kids," I mumbled quietly. "Sounds like he's jealous."

Score. Oliver, 1. Chris, 0.

"But he knows he doesn't have any reason to be jealous!" she exclaimed.

Ouch. I take that back.

"Well, he's probably just concerned," I said, trying to act like I didn't care. "I mean, would you want him living with another woman?"

"No," Katie answered. "But _we're_ different. We're not attracted to each other like that."

Speak for yourself.

"Well then maybe he's just getting a bit nervous," I suggested. Why the hell was I defending this guy? "You know, you're getting married in 2 months."

"Yeah, I guess so," Katie sighed. "I thought getting married was supposed to be life-changing and exciting. Instead, I just want to punch someone in the face."

"You can punch out any one of those reporters back there," I said eagerly. "Go ahead, take your pick. I suggest the male one that tries to hide in my locker… I'm not even sure if he's a real reporter."

Katie snorted. "Poor Oliver Wood," she teased. "It must be so hard, every woman and an occasional man fawning over you."

"It is hard," I said indignantly. "Do you know how creepy it is to receive love notes and nude photos from people you've never met?"

"Well, yes actually," she replied. "Marcus Flint sent some to me during my 5th year."

I stared at her and my suppressed hate for that kid began to resurface. "Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded.

"Well, why would I?" she asked, shrugging a shoulder before putting on a false voice. "Oh, hello Oliver. Good practice today. How did your Charms exam go? Oh and by the way, Flint sent me pictures of his-"

"All right, all right, I get it," I interrupted.

"And besides," Katie continued. "You just would have beaten him up. Again."

"Exactly."

She rolled her eyes at me and let me get a few steps ahead before jumping on my back, without warning of course. "Carry me" she ordered.

"Like I have a choice?" I groaned.

"I'll repay you," she said.

"Oh, really?" I mused. "How?" She kicked me in the back and I yelped. "Nevermind," I sighed. "But can we watch some more '_Sex and the City'_? To be completely honest, I'm more of a Charlotte fan."

**Katie's Point of View**

A loud pounding on the door awoke me from my pleasant dream about my night out with Jude Law and I jackknifed myself out of bed. Oliver came stumbling from his room, mumbling several obscenities. "It's 2:30 in the morning," he grumbled. "What the hell?" He crossed through the living room and yanked the front door open as I hid behind him, in case the visitor were to brutally attack us.

"Can I talk to Katie?" I heard a familiar voice say. I stepped out from behind Oliver.

"What is it, Chris?" I sighed. "What are you doing here this early?"

"I have to talk to you, Katie," he uttered, stepping inside and slipping his arms around me. "I feel terrible and I've been up all night thinking about it." I blinked. What are we, school children in drama class?

Oliver pushed his way past us, still grumbling. I turned and watched as he disappeared back into his bedroom.

"Katie, I'm really sorry," Chris continued. "I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."

"I know," I sighed. "Maybe I overreacted a little. But you have to understand, Chris, Oliver is my best friend. Nothing is going to happen."

"I trust you, Kate," he said hugging me tighter. "I really do. And I trust him, but I just feel a little unsure. How do you know he doesn't have feelings for you?"

"Because he's Oliver!" I insisted. "He just… doesn't."

…Does he?

Chris sighed a little and kissed me on the forehead. "Okay," he said. "We'll drop it at that. We've only got two months left anyway." I nodded and he squeezed my hand. "So are we good?"

I nodded and forced a small smile. "We're good." Chris kissed me goodbye and left, quietly closing the door behind himself. But instead of returning to bed, I let myself sink onto the couch.

…Does he?

I shook my head and nearly laughed at myself. I was just getting nervous. Two months, two months, two months.


	3. Give In

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Aww, I really love you guys and your fabulous reviews. They make me so giddy. So keep it up, ya heard? And one more thing you should note: We're going to pretend like Fred didn't die. Mainly because he's going to be in this story, and also because I'm still in denial over his death.

**Chapter 3**

(Katie's Point of View)

"I really, really hate you," I muttered at Oliver the next morning.

"Gee, it's good to see you too, Sunshine," he said with a raised eyebrow. "What'd I do this time?"

"You know very well what you did," I said sharply, throwing my soaking wet towel at him.

He caught it with ease and tossed it back to me, where it landed at my feet. "I didn't use it for myself," he said. "The toilet overflowed and I had to mop up all the water."

I nearly died.

I kicked my towel across the room where it smacked against the wall, leaving a slick trail of water across the floor. Every obscenity in the book erupted from my mouth as I attempted to claw every part of Oliver I could get my hands on.

"Relax!" he shouted, raising his hands to cover his face. "I was just kidding! I used it! I used it!"

"I hate you!" I screamed. "You sick son-of-a-" My words fell short as Oliver threw a glass of water on me.

Saturday, April 3rd, 9:14 AM: The day Katie Bell snaps.

I threw myself on Oliver and he stumbled across the kitchen. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he yelled as I grabbed his hair. A loud knock on the door stopped us in our tracks. Oliver crossed the room to the front door, still carrying me on his back, and opened it. Two red-headed men stood facing us, each with identical grins.

"Er, is this a bad time?" one of them asked.

"Weasleys!" I exclaimed, scrambling to climb off of Oliver. He grunted as I accidentally elbowed him in the stomach. I jumped toward Fred and George, pulling them into a hug.

"Boy, Fred," George said. "I didn't know we were getting in on some of this action too."

"Give me a moment to take my pants off, will you Katie?"

I shot a look at the twins and they grinned. "So uh, what are you two really up to?" George asked, giving me a critical stare.

"Just having breakfast," Oliver replied.

"You eat breakfast like that?" Fred asked me.

"Like what?" I demanded.

"Like you're in a wet t-shirt contest."

"No," I answered defensively. "But _some_ people think it's okay to use my towel and then throw water on me when I call them out on it." I whirled around to glare at Oliver, who merely shrugged.

"And some people think it's okay to attack me when I'm defenseless," he mused.

The twins looked back and forth between us before making their way into our flat. "Well, we can't stay long," George said, sitting down on the couch. "But we just thought we'd let you know that the group is going out for drinks and whatnot tomorrow. You two in?"

"Of course," Oliver and I replied simultaneously.

By "the group", George means the twins, Angelina, Alicia, Oliver, and me. Ever since graduating from Hogwarts, the six of us have remained close. Fred and Angelina got married last summer and though Alicia and George broke up at one point, they've gotten back together recently.

"Where are we going?" Oliver asked.

"Some new restaurant downtown," George replied. "Looks pretty good."

"It's not another strip club, is it?" I asked suspiciously.

"No," Fred sighed. "Not this time. Angie's still mad at me about that." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, we'd better get going. We're supposed to be receiving a new shipment of Wheezes in an hour." The twins stood up and made their way toward the door.

"By the way, Katie," George said. "Nice pink bra."

I slammed the door in their faces.

* * *

"So what did Chris want?" Oliver asked me after I'd dried myself off and my shirt was no longer transparent.

"To apologize," I sighed.

"So are you moving out?"

"Of course not," I replied, shaking my head. "That's ridiculous."

"So did you forgive him?"

"Of course," I answered. "He apologized. He still doesn't fully trust you though."

"Oh well," Oliver said passively. "He'll get over it all once you really do move out."

My heart got that unpleasant, twisted feeling. I hugged Oliver around the waist and pouted. "But I don't want to move out," I whined.

"Well you have to," Oliver laughed. "The three of us can't all live together."

"I know," I sighed dejectedly. "But it's going to be weird. Who's going to make me banana pancakes?"

"I'm sure Chris will," Oliver assured me.

"No he won't," I protested. "He's a terrible cook. And he hates bananas."

"I'll make them and owl them to you," Oliver promised. "But what about me? What am I going to do? Who's towel will I use?"

"I'm sure you'll find some other poor, innocent victim to take my place," I told him. "Someone with an even better pink towel."

"I doubt it," he sighed. A sad silence fell between us and Oliver tugged on my ponytail. "It _is_ going to be weird, isn't it?" he said. "It's not going to be the same."

I could feel my heart twisting into thousands of knots as I thought about it more. And suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to latch on to Oliver forever. Truth is, I was scared. I didn't want to step out into the world away from him. He was more than my best friend, he was my better half. He'd seen me at my best and at my worst. I wasn't sure how to cope without him. He sort of held me together I guess.

And suddenly, I remembered why he was my best friend. "I'm scared," I admitted. The one thing I admired about Oliver above all else was his willingness to listen to me. He never seemed to care what I talked about, as long as I could open up to him. He didn't judge me or try to change me. He didn't try to force his own opinions on me. He just let me do the talking.

"Scared of what?" he asked, resting a hand on the small of my back. "Moving out?"

"Of everything," I blurted out. "Of leaving you, of getting married, just everything in general."

"Don't worry about me, Kate," he said. "I'll make it without you."

"Yeah, but _I_ won't make it without_ you_," I insisted. "I don't talk to Chris the way I talk with you. He's too superficial. And he takes everything way too seriously."

"But you can always come talk to me," Oliver reminded me. "I'm not going anywhere, Kate."

I sighed and rested my head against his chest. "This sucks," I mumbled. "Maybe Chris and I will just adopt you. Then you can come live with us.

"And you'll be my mother?" Oliver asked.

"Mmhmm."

"I'm not sure about that," Oliver said. "You'd probably spank me too much."

"And you'd like it."

"You're right, I would."

**Oliver's Point of View**

My conversation with Katie left my mind in utter, complete disarray. So she was having second thoughts. I felt relieved and uneasy at the same time. But despite my unsure thoughts, I knew one thing for sure: she was afraid to leave me. And to be completely honest, I was afraid to let her go. Not because I didn't want her to get married to Chris, but because Chris didn't deserve her. Not that I necessarily did either. But at least I understood her more than he did. And I didn't want Katie to realize that before it was too late.

The following night, Katie and I met up with the group for dinner and drinks. As I slid into a booth after Katie, the twins crammed themselves in next to me.

"So Katie," George said, leaning over me. "How are the wedding plans going?"

"Fine," Katie replied with a shrug. "They're pretty much done with, I guess. Just little details."

"Well I'm still awfully upset that you didn't ask me to be your maid of honor," Fred sighed.

"Right," Katie said. "Because I'm sure you would have looked stunning in a blue dress."

"Well Oliver could have done it," George suggested.

"I am _not_ going to wear a dress," I said hotly.

Instead, I'd received the honor of being one of Chris's groomsmen. Though I'd rather spend a week locked in a room full of pixies. Nonetheless, Katie insisted that I be in the wedding and I grudgingly agreed.

"Don't people of your kind wear plaid skirts?" Fred asked.

"They're kilts!" I said defensively. "And I've never worn one, thank you very much."

"So, Katie," Angelina suddenly interrupted, probably aware that I was about to punch out her husband, "Where are you and Chris going to live?"

I suddenly looked up. I hadn't really thought of that. Though I knew Katie would be moving out, I hadn't thought about where her new place would be.

"Well, Chris wants to live on the other side of the city," Katie said.

Why there?

"Isn't that kind of far from the hospital?" Angelina asked.

Yeah, isn't it?

"Mmhmm," Katie nodded. "But we could buy an actual house there."

"I thought you liked living in a flat?" Alicia asked.

"I do," Katie replied with a shrug. "But Chris wants a house. And it'll be worthwhile in the long run, you know, when we have kids."

...Kids?

"And it'll be quieter there too," Katie continued. "Not as much city traffic and stuff."

"I thought you liked the city," Alicia said.

"Yeah," I managed to chirp in.

Katie shrugged slightly and took a sip of her drink. "Sometimes when you love someone, you just have to give in to them."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE #2:** My next update probably won't be as quick. I need to start my summer reading for AP English. Anyway, review!


	4. Trust Me

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Mmmkay, so maybe I've been putting off my AP English a little bit. But honestly, this is far better than writing about The Poisonwood Bible. Review? And I have a question: How far do you want this story to go? I mean, do you want it to be one of those long, drawn out stories, or would you rather I just get to the point? Let me know. Oh, and someone requested that the crazy cameraman in Oliver's locker make a return. Well, read on!

**Chapter 4**

**(Katie's Point of View)**

"Katie. Katie, get up."

I rolled over in my sleep. After doing so, a shock of pain surged through my head and I groaned. "What the-"

"Katie," I head Oliver's voice say. "You have to be at work in half an hour."

"WHAT?!"

I immediately regretted my decision to shout as more pain took over my head. More importantly, I regretted my decision to have more than "just a few" drinks the previous night. I slowly sat up, letting my legs dangle over the edge of the bed. "I hate my life," I mumbled, leaning sideways against Oliver's shoulder.

"Kate, you're going to be late for work," Oliver reminded me. I cursed under my breath.

"Can't you just go for me?" I asked.

"Oh yes," Oliver replied. "I'll just put a blonde wig on and we'll be all set. No one will know the difference."

I groaned. I was not in the mood for any kind of humor whatsoever. I slowly stood up, using Oliver's shoulder for support. "Never ever let me drink again," I muttered.

"Right," Oliver replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Because I'm sure you'll listen to me."

I ignored him and trudged my way out of the room and into the bathroom.

* * *

"You're late," my supervisor pointed out as I appeared in the staff lounge, my hair a mess and my shirt half-buttoned. All of my co-workers had already left for their assignments.

"I know," I mumbled. "Sorry."

"Yes well, get to work," she snapped. "Go find Warren. There's a severe Billywig attack in room 206." I nodded and made my way to room 206, where Chris was already helping the patient.

"You okay?" he asked, looking up at me.

"Of course," I replied with a nod, leaning over to examine the patient's wounds. "Just overslept."

Chris studied me for a moment and frowned. "You're hungover, aren't you?"

"…What?"

"Katie, don't lie to me."

I glanced at the patient who was staring at us, amused. "Chris, this isn't the time. We'll talk later."

Chris glared at me and I sighed as I began to wrap the patient's leg. "Who were you with?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Who were you with last night?"

"I was with Oliver, the twins, and the girls," I answered. "I don't see why that ma-"

"You were with all of them the entire night?"

"Well, no," I replied, slightly confused. "I mean, I went back home, obviously."

"So you were with Oliver?"

"Well, yeah," I said, narrowing my eyes. "He_ is _my roommate." Chris didn't respond, but simply shook his head and went back to wrapping the patient's hand. "What?" I suddenly demanded. "What's wrong with that?"

"A lot of things, Katie," he said tersely. He suddenly looked up at me. "Nothing happened, did it?"

"What? No!" I exclaimed, forgetting about the patient.

"Are you sure? He could have tried something-"

"Are you _serious_?!" I exclaimed.

"Well, you _were_ drunk, Katie," Chris said calmly. "He could have taken advantage of you."

"You have _got _to be kidding me!"

"What's going on in here?" I jumped a little at the intrusion of the new voice and jerked my head around to see my supervisor glaring at us in the doorway. "Warren, get out," she snapped. "Go see what your next assignment is. Bell, you're on thin ice here. You'd better shape up." She disappeared and Chris stood up.

"We'll talk later," he mumbled as he too disappeared from the room.

"Are you guys siblings or something?" the patient suddenly asked. I jumped again, forgetting he was there.

"Er, no," I replied. "He's my fiancé."

"I see. So tell me, what's it like, living with Oliver Wood?"

"Er, what?"

"Oliver Wood… What's it like living with him? And just knowing him in general?"

"It's fine, I guess," I replied.

"I see you in the papers with him all the time," the man said. "I bet it's great."

"Honestly, it really isn't," I mumbled. "It's pretty annoying."

"Oh, I don't mean being in the paper," the man said. "I mean knowing Oliver Wood."

"Oh, right," I said. "Yeah, he's great."

"Say, do you think you could introduce me to him?" the man asked eagerly.

"Um, well, I suppose so," I said uneasily.

"Really?" The man sat up quickly and winced. "That'd be amazing, a real dream come true. Do you think I could get some pictures of him as well? I've been trying for years, but he's just so hard to-"

"I'm sure he'd love to take a picture with you," I said. "Wait, are you a photographer or something?"

"No, not exactly," the man said. "I just like to collect pictures of celebrities. I've done everything to get Oliver's."

I couldn't help it. I stared. I checked the man's chart for a name… Kevin Creevey?

"Well," I said standing up quickly. "I think you're all bandaged up. I'll have some antidote sent up to your room shortly."

"Wait!" he shouted as I started for the door. "So you're going to introduce me to Oliver, right?"

"Yeah," I lied. "Definitely." And I hurried away.

Note to self: Tell Oliver to get a restraining order and to change the locks.

* * *

A couple hours later, I collapsed into a chair in the hospital café, where I tanked myself up with 3 cups of coffee. I rested my head on the table and closed my eyes when I heard a chair scrape across the floor. "Hey." I groaned inwardly and looked up at Chris, who was gazing down at me.

"Hey," I mumbled, sitting up slowly. I didn't look at him, but stared into my empty coffee cup.

"Katie, I think you should come live with me for the next few months," he said.

"There isn't any room, Chris," I pointed out.

"I'll make room," he replied tersely. "I can't stand this anymore."

"Well neither can I," I said hotly. "I'm sick of you accusing me-"

"I'm not accusing _you_," Chris interjected. "It's Oliver I'm accusing."

"And you have no right to," I shot back. "He's not going to do anything. It's not-"

"Like that between you?" he finished. "Right?"

"…Right."

"Katie, let me ask you something," he said. "Why doesn't Oliver have a girlfriend? He's one of the most eligible bachelors in the wizarding world. Why doesn't he go out with anyone? Why does he spend all of his time with you?"

"Because he's not like that!" I defended, trying to fight a sudden dizzy spell. This was not the time for a hangover. "He knows that half of those women only like him because he's famous and good-looking."

"So you admit you're attracted to him?"

"…What?"

"You just said he was good-looking."

"Well, yeah!" I exclaimed. "But that doesn't mean I have feelings for him!"

"But he has feelings for you, Katie."

"No he doesn't!"

I wanted to scream or punch something. I was getting really sick of Chris treating me like this.

"He does, Katie," Chris said. His voice was still surprisingly calm. "He doesn't go out with other women because he only wants you. He doesn't spend time with anyone else because he only wants to be with you."

I'd heard enough. "That's it," I said, standing up quickly. "I am so sick of you trashing Oliver like that. He hasn't done anything to you."

"Why are you defending him?" Chris demanded.

"Why wouldn't I defend him?" I cried.

"I'll tell you why," Chris said. "Because you care about him more than me."

My head spun and my vision wavered in and out of focus. "You know what, Chris?" I spat, my voice dropping lower. "Maybe I do."

**(Oliver's Point of View)**

I jumped about 3 feet in the air as I heard the front door slam. I looked up to see Katie violently throw her jacket on a chair. She sank onto the floor and buried her face in her hands. I immediately jumped up and sat down on the floor next to her. "What the hell happened?" I demanded.

Katie sobbed a little and shook her head, burying her face against my chest. I hugged her and tucked some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. She sobbed a sentence that I couldn't quite make out, though I caught the words, "Chris" and "you."

"What?" I asked.

Katie took a few moments to catch her breath, though I could feel my shirt becoming increasingly wet. "It's Chris," she finally said.

"Why does that not surprise me?" I muttered.

"He flipped out on me because of last night," she said.

"What? What happened last night?" I asked, confused. "You were with me the whole night."

"Exactly," she said. "He didn't like the fact that I was drinking with you. And he said that you might have tried to take advantage of me."

"_What_?"

"Yeah, I know," Katie mumbled. "And he keeps saying that you-"

"That I what?" I demanded.

"Ugh, nevermind," Katie said. "He's just being so ridiculous."

"Katie, he shouldn't be doing this to you," I said quietly. "He shouldn't be putting you on the spot like this." Katie nodded and hugged me around the waist.

We sat there on the cold floor for several minutes in a quiet silence. Katie's blond hair spilled around her shoulders and I could feel her hands clutching the back of my shirt. I stared at the wall across the room from where we sat in a crumpled heap by the door. Katie's breathing slowed down to a normal pace and she looked up at me.

"I just can't believe him," she said. "You and I have been living together since before he and I started dating. He's never really complained about it before. And the things he says, they're just so insane!"

"What exactly does he say?" I asked, using my shirt to wipe her eyes a little.

"He says that he doesn't trust you and that you might try to get with me and he just absolutely _insists_ that you have feelings for me."

I desperately prayed she couldn't feel my heart pounding in my chest. "Well, he seems awfully insecure," I said.

"I know!" Katie exclaimed. "It's completely uncalled for!"

"Yeah, it looks like he has some trust issues or some-"

"And I tell him time and time again that you and I aren't like that," Katie continued. "I tell him how ridiculous and irrational he's being and how you don't have feelings for me, but he just doesn't listen."

"Yeah, he really-"

"I mean, you don't, do you?"

**ANOTHER'S NOTE #2:** Please don't hate me for that! I promise it'll be worthwhile. In fact, I think I'm just going to continue on and begin writing the next chapter. AP English can wait. Therefore, I believe you owe me a review.


	5. What Do You Want?

(**Author's Note:** Sorry it's taken me so long. I feel bad, considering I said I'd update quickly. AP English/school has been keeping me busy as hell. Thanks for all of the reviews though. Keep it up, I love you guys!)

**Chapter 5**

**Oliver's Point of View**

"…W-What?" I stammered.

"You don't," Katie repeated. "You know, have feelings for me. Do you?"

"Kate, we've been best friends since we were toddlers," I said. Was I trying too hard to seem amused? "And as ridiculous as you are, do you really think I want to lose you?"

"Well, no," Katie answered.

"And since we've known each other for so long, having grown up together, gone to school together, having lived together, don't you think if something were to happen, it would have by now?" I went on. Wow, I was really shooting myself in the foot here.

"Well, Chris doesn't seem to think that," Katie said.

"I guess he's threatened by my good looks." I was trying desperately hard to make light of the situation. Katie gave me a look and I smiled. "Or maybe he just loves you."

"If he loved me, he'd trust me," Katie mumbled.

"Well, maybe he shouldn't," I joked. "Maybe you secretly want me and you don't know it."

I've always known that I'd someday choke on my own sarcasm.

**Katie's Point of View**

By 6:00, I was surprised that Chris hadn't come by, begging for forgiveness. I guess Oliver noticed my concern, because he suggested we go out for dinner. But I, not wanting to wake up with another hangover, suggested we stay in, and Oliver offered to cook for me.

What a gentleman. Maybe I _should_ be second-guessing myself here. …Nah. I'm pretty sure OIiver might be gay.

Anyway, though I agreed to let him cook dinner for me, he seemed a bit disappointed when I told him I only wanted macaroni and cheese. And not the homemade kind, the kind you just buy in a box and boil the noodles. Nonetheless, Oliver produced a gourmet meal of macaroni and cheese and store-bought cookies.

And they call me high-maintenance… I think not.

It was after my third helping of macaroni when there was a knock at the front door. I looked at Oliver, who stood up to answer it. "Wait," I whispered. "It's probably Chris." I stood up and tiptoed toward the nearest bedroom. "If it is, tell him I'm asleep."

"Why?" Oliver asked.

"Just do it!" I whispered loudly. And I hurried into Oliver's room. I crawled in bed and pulled the covers over my head as I heard Oliver open the door. Sure enough, I recognized Chris's voice asking for me and Oliver telling him I was asleep.

"Well, I need to talk to her," I heard Chris demand. My heart stopped as the front door closed and I heard two pairs of footsteps. The footsteps made their way past Oliver's door and back toward my room. "Where is she?" I heard Chris ask. I held my breath as I heard his footsteps approach Oliver's room and stop in the door way. "Katie?"

I groaned inwardly and rolled over, trying to look as if I'd been asleep. "Chris?" I mumbled.

"Katie, what are you doing?"

"I'm sleeping," I answered, trying my best to look bewildered.

"Why aren't you in your own bed?"

I looked around, as if I were confused. "I don't know," I replied. "I guess I just fell asleep."

"In Oliver's bed?"

"Well, yeah," I answered. I looked up and met Chris's eyes and I knew that a simple, "I'm sorry" wouldn't fix this. But the more I looked at his cold gaze, the more I realized that maybe I just didn't care. "Nothing happened," I pointed out. "Nothing ever does."

"And that makes it okay for you to sleep in another man's bed?" Chris inquired.

"Well what does it matter if I didn't do anything?"

"Katie, you just don't get it, do you?" Chris asked.

"Apparently not," I replied shortly. Instead of launching into a lengthy lecture, Chris merely stared me down for a few moments.

"Fine," was all he said. "Fine. I'm going." He turned and disappeared from the doorway. I sat there on the bed until I heard the front door slam shut.

Oliver appeared in the doorway a few moments later. "Well," he said. "Do you want me to bring you some more macaroni?" I nodded silently, keeping my gaze straight ahead toward the green wall. Oliver left for a few minutes and returned with a bowl of macaroni and a bottle of water. "Are you okay?" he asked, sitting down next to me, leaning back against the headboard.

I nodded, shoving a forkful of macaroni into my mouth. It took me a moment to swallow as his question hung in my head. Suddenly, I bit my bottom lip and tears started to form in my eyes.

"No," I finally managed. And then I leaned against Oliver, sobbing into his chest.

**Oliver's Point of View**

I woke up the next morning with Katie asleep next to me and macaroni in my hair. I prodded her awake and she rolled over. "Katie, wake up," I said.

"No," she mumbled stubbornly. I sighed and picked a noodle out of my hair. I glanced at Katie who was lying face down and threw it at her. "I'll kill you," she threatened as she rolled over to slam the pillow against my face. I blinked a few times and she laughed.

"That's not funny," I said, trying my best to sound serious. "You could ruin my award-winning good looks."

"Award winning?" Katie snorted.

"Someday," I replied. "I'm the next Gilderoy Lockhart. Minus the whole faking-my-way-to-fame thing."

Instead of replying with a snide, witty comeback, Katie hit me with another pillow. Grabbing it from her, I gently held it over her face, pretending to smother her. Her arms flailed wildly and she somehow managed to grab a handful of my hair. "Ow!" I released my hold on her and she sat up, still holding me by the hair.

"Apologize!" she demanded.

"Make me, you- Oww!" I groaned as she tightened her grip on my hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"What was that?" Katie asked loudly. "I couldn't understand you."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Katie released me and lay back down, pulling the covers over her head. We sat in silence as I stared at the lump of blankets next to me. "So," I finally started. "Are you okay?"

It took her a few moments to reply. She slowly pulled the covers back down and I couldn't help but notice she was wearing a low-cut tank-top. "Yeah," she sighed, averting my attention back toward her face. "I just don't care anymore."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "You don't care about Chris?"

"No, I care about him," she said, resulting in a mental image of myself punching Chris in the face. "I just… I don't know. I just don't care about what he has to say. I like my life. He doesn't have the right to change it."

"But aren't you going to have to change it eventually?" I asked. God, I really don't know how to help my own cause, do I?

"What do you mean?" Katie inquired.

"Well, when you get married, you're going to have to move out and submit yourself to him anyway, aren't you?"

Another moment of silence followed and Katie lay there quietly, consumed in thought. "Well, yeah," she replied. But she couldn't continue her thoughts.

"Then you're going to have to adjust to a new lifestyle sooner or later," I pointed out.

"Wait." Katie sat up slightly, resting back on her elbows. "Do you _want_ me to move out?"

"Of course not," I replied immediately. "Kate, you know I like living with you, as insane as you may be."

"Well then why are you so eager for me to get married and leave?"

I really need to learn to just keep my mouth shut. But as I looked at Katie, I knew that trying to keep her here would only benefit myself. If Katie really loved Chris, she should be with him, not me.

"I'm not eager for you to leave," I said. "But maybe it really is for the best. I don't want to keep causing problems between you and Chris."

"You're not the one creating problems," Katie said. "Chris is. He doesn't trust me."

"Well, then I don't know what to tell you, Katie," I said. And I didn't. I wanted to tell her to do whatever made her happy. But I wasn't so sure she even knew what that was.


	6. A Mess In A Dress

**Author's Note:** Wow, thanks so much for your response, guys! I'm so thrilled to know you all enjoy this story. Seriously, I didn't know anyone still wanted to read my work. This is for you guys, okay? Also, please note that there are several changes in point of view. I hope you all can follow. Oh, and please take note that I may be changing the title of his story soon. Just thought I'd let you know for your own reference. Review! I love you guys lots.

**Katie's Point of View:**

My conversation with Oliver left my mind reeling. In my head, I tried my hardest to see reason within his opinions. Yes, I was engaged, and no, I couldn't live with Oliver forever, but despite my conscious, something in me didn't want to let go.

How pathetic of me.

No, seriously. I felt like one of those ignorant women in romance movies who ends up torn between two men, despite the fact that she knows who she should be with.

Well, okay, my situation isn't exactly that extreme. I'm not torn between two men, not romantically. I'm torn between a man and my best friend. Not that Oliver isn't a man, he's very much a man, but to me, he's… well, my best friend. Not to mention I still wonder if he might be gay or something.

…What if I tried to set Oliver up with someone? I mean, it's not that he has trouble meeting women. They throw themselves at him on a daily basis, write him fan mail, and send him photographs. But Oliver knows better than to waste his time on them. Maybe if I introduced him to someone who won't be starstruck by him, he'd finally find someone. Then he wouldn't be lonely when I moved out.

**(The following morning:)**

I strolled into work, tired yet refreshed. I'd had plenty of time to think about everything, and I was ready and rehearsed to make things right.

Chris was sitting on a bench in the staff locker room talking to Olivia. His eyes shifted toward me as I walked in and I offered him a tiny, forced smile. He stood and pulled me into a hug.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled into his shoulder. "I've just been confused."

"Confused about what?" Chris asked.

"Everything," I replied. "But I'm okay," I added quickly, noticing his concerned expression. "I guess I just had to grow up a little."

"And where do you stand now?"

"I'm going to move in with you," I said firmly. "You were right. You're my fiancé, Oliver's just my best friend. I owe more to you than him."

As soon as the words left my lips, they felt wrong, like they were in some sort of foreign language or something. Then I realized I had just lied through my teeth.

"Well I'm glad you finally understand," Chris said, kissing my forehead. "I knew you would. And tell me, was I right about Oliver? Did he try to put the moves on you or something?"

Hot anger began to surface, but I suppressed it. "No," I said calmly. "Of course not. Despite what you're always going to think, Oliver doesn't see me like that. He's had plenty of opportunities to 'put the moves on me', but he hasn't. In fact, I think I'm going to try to set him up with Leah."

"Leah?" Chris asked with a raised eyebrow. "That's interesting."

"I think they'd be good for each other," I said. "She's quiet and kind, he's polite and charming. They've got a shot, don't you think?"

Chris nodded. "Sure, why not? Better Leah than you." I shot him a look and he grimaced slightly. "Okay, I'll stop," he said, turning to shut his locker. "I'll see you later, okay?" He pressed a kiss against my cheek before slipping out of the room.

Relieved, I sat down on the bench to put my work shoes on. Olivia, who had been fixing her hair, turned to face me. "So, you two are cool now?" she asked.

I nodded. "Of course," I said. "It was just a misunderstanding. You know how men are," I joked. "They never listen."

Olivia rose an eyebrow at me and stood. "Right," she said. "So, I heard you say that you want to fix Oliver up with Leah?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I think they'd be a good match."

"Well, just so you know, she has a boyfriend, I'm pretty sure," Olivia said, checking herself in a mirror.

I shrugged a shoulder, annoyed. "I'll talk to her." Olivia eyed me for another moment before turning to leave.

"Well," she said. "Have a nice day."

"You too," I sighed.

The work day was exhausting, one of the worst I'd been through. Mondays are always bad, but this was just uncalled for. There's something about the weekend that causes people to lose their minds and engage in stupid activities. Some of the other Healers and I were forced to work overtime, until late evening. I sipped a cup of tea with Chris in the hospital cafeteria before heading home with the intent to pass out in bed.

When I reached the flat, I found the door unlocked, which I found odd. Oliver was usually pretty good at keeping it locked, especially now, after someone released our address to the public.

I shut the door quietly and slipped my shoes off, hearing voices from the kitchen. I crossed the living room to the kitchen, where I found Olivia and Oliver sitting at the table. (Author's Note: I didn't intend for their names to be so cheesily similar. My bad.)

"Olivia," I said blankly.

"Katie!" she cooed. "Did you have to work overtime? God, I feel so bad for you! I'm so glad I left when I did."

"Er, yeah," I said, my ability to string a sentence together gone. "What are you-"

"Well, I'd thought you'd already left work," Olivia interrupted. "So when I saw your bag in the staff room, I thought you'd forgotten it, so I brought it for you."

I spotted a bag sitting on the chair beside Olivia. "Er, that's not mine," I said. "I have my bag." I held out my tote bag for her to see.

"Oh my gosh!" Olivia exclaimed. "Really? I could've sworn this was yours!"

"Uh, no," was all I could manage.

Olivia had known very well that was not my bag. We all knew it was our co-worker, Sarah's. I glanced at Oliver, who seemed to be studying me with a confused expression. Then everything clicked. Olivia + Oliver.

Oh God, please, no.

"Well, thanks for the nice thought," I said, forcing a smile. "But I think that might be Sarah's bag."

"Really?" Olivia said, picking up the bag, pretending to examine it. "You know, I guess you're right." She stood, pushing her chair in and slinging the bag over her shoulder. "Well, I guess I'll see if I can get this back to her." She turned to gaze at Oliver. "Well, it was nice seeing you, Oliver," she said. "We'll have to do this again sometime."

As she crossed the kitchen toward the living room, I noticed she wasn't wearing her work clothes. Instead, she'd changed into an incredibly tight blouse, which wasn't buttoned nearly enough. I followed her through the living room and opened the door for her.

"Goodbye, Katie," she said sweetly. "See you tomorrow." I didn't say anything. Instead, I shut the door loudly and locked it, before hurrying back to the kitchen, where Oliver was still sitting.

"_Please_ tell me you didn't do anything," I said desperately. Oliver stared at me. So maybe I was a bit jealous of her. But Oliver was my best friend, and Olivia sure as hell didn't deserve him.

"What?"

"You and Olivia. Please tell me nothing happened between you two."

"Katie, what the hell?" he asked. "This is only the second time I've met her. Of course not. We were just talking."

"About what?" I demanded.

"Just stuff," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What's with you?"

"Nothing," I said. "I just don't think you should get involved with Olivia. She's not… she's not a good person."

"Involved?" Oliver repeated. "Katie, I'm not going to get involved with her. She's not really my type."

"Good," I said, relieved. "Because she's a real bitch."

Oliver laughed. "She didn't seem that bad. But I'll take your word for it." He looped an arm around my waist and pulled me into his lap. "So, did you talk to Chris?"

Aw, shit.

"Yeah," I replied with a few nods. "Ol, I'm going to move in with him." I averted my eyes from his down toward the lines between the floor tiles.

"When?" was all he asked.

"Soon," I replied, gathering the courage to catch his gaze. Not that it mattered, because I couldn't read it.

"Okay," he said. "I think it's for the best."

"You do?"

"Sure." Oliver nodded. "It has to be done at one point or another. It'll make Chris happy. And it'll give you two time to adjust before you get married."

"Yeah," I said blankly. "You're right." I sighed and rested my head against his shoulder.

"Rough day?"

"Brutal," I replied.

He smiled sympathetically and tugged on my ponytail. "You hungry?" he asked. "I found some pancake mix in the pantry."

I stared at him. "Oliver, that's been in there for years."

Oliver blinked. "Take out it is, then."

**Oliver's Point of View:**

So Katie was moving out. I knew it was coming, but now that it was finally happening, I wasn't sure what to do but try to be happy for her.

The problem was, I didn't know if moving out was what she really wanted. Just a few days ago, she'd told me she didn't want to be without me.

Funny how those words weren't in the context I'd hoped for.

By Friday evening, things had settled back to their normal routine. Katie was out on a date with Chris, and I was feeling too moody to go out for drinks with the team. Instead, I went for a walk in the Diagon Alley area to scope out the latest Nimbus series broomstick.

As I left the quidditch shop, a pair of voices called my name.

I turned and spotted Katie's mom and dad waving at me from a table at a café. I smiled and fought my way through the evening crowd to greet them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bell," I said as I reached them. "How are you?"

"Good good," Mr. Bell replied. "How good to see you. Great game the other day, impeccable saves you made."

"Oh, you know it's all in a day's work," I said. "I'm just hoping we can stay on this win streak until playoffs."

"You'd better," Mr. Bell warned. "I've already got tickets on reserve." I grinned and nodded.

"We'll do our best."

"So Oliver," Mrs. Bell started. "Has Katie been dragging you through hell with all her wedding plans?"

"Eh, she hasn't been too much of a bridezilla," I said, shrugging a shoulder. "But she doesn't get me too involved. I'm not exactly a wedding planning type of guy."

"Yes, when I spoke with Chris the other day, he told me he'd rather be trampled by a hippogriff than help with the planning."

Wow, Chris is a prick. "Yeah, I guess it can be pretty stressful," I said politely.

"Well, I suppose it's more of a woman's thing anyway," Mrs. Bell said. "If men planned the weddings, they'd be held in bars with beer instead of cake."

"You're damn right," Mr. Bell said as I laughed.

"What about you, Oliver?" Mrs. Bell continued. "Any wedding for you in the future?"

Yeah, when your daughter gets rid of the bastard.

"Nah," I said, shaking my head for emphasis. "Not yet."

"Not even a girl?" Mr. Bell asked. "Come on, I bet you've got a whole line of brides waiting for you."

"Well, that may be so, but I don't really have any interest in any of them," I said.

I was starting to feel incredibly awkward. I couldn't exactly tell them that the only person I had any interest in was their own daughter, who happened to be engaged.

"Well, I'm sure you'll meet someone someday," Mrs. Bell said kindly. "Or maybe you'll have some spark with someone you already know."

Oh dear lord, kill me now.

"Maybe," I managed say with another shrug. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your dinner. It was good seeing you."

Mr. and Mrs. Bell bid me goodbye and I made my way back home, to an empty flat that Katie didn't come home to that evening.

**Katie's Point of View:**

When I came home from Chris's on Saturday morning, Oliver was reading the paper at the kitchen table.

"Morning," I called out as I tossed my purse on a chair.

"Morning," he replied, not looking up. I stopped en route to the fridge to look at him.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He set the paper down and looked up. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well."

"Oh," I said, sitting down in a chair across from him. I knew Oliver all too well to fall for such a lie, but I assumed that whatever it was that was bothering him would be solved soon. I mean, it's not like Oliver had too rough of a life. "Well, I know something that will cheer you up," I said happily.

"And what would that be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"You get to come with me to my dress fitting," I announced dramatically. I grinned at his less-than-thrilled expression. "Come on, it won't be that bad. And I need your opinion. I need to make sure it looks perfect."

"Katie," he sighed. "I'm sure it'll look great."

"But I need your opinion!" I insisted.

"Why don't you take Alicia and Angelina?" he asked. "They're girls."

"They were with me when I picked it out," I told him. "But I want you to be there for the final fitting. It's crucial. Besides, you're a guy. Your idea of what looks good is different than what a woman thinks."

"How so?"

"Well, women think whatever is fashionable is what looks good," I explained. "But men prefer sexy. You know, things that are tighter and more form-fitting. And shorter."

"You're going to be wearing a tight, short wedding dress?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "Of course not. I just… I just want you to be there, okay?"

Oliver nodded. "All right. But can I see you in a short dress anyway?"

I threw a spoon at him.

**Oliver's Point of View: **

Later that afternoon, Katie dragged me to the bridal shop where her dress was on hold. As she disappeared to try it on, I sat in a chair, looking around at the overwhelming sea of white around me. On the other side of the store, a younger girl was trying on dresses for her friends.

"Oh, that one makes your hips look big," one of them said. "Tyler wouldn't like it. It's got too much lace."

"But it's designer!" the bride-to-be whined. "I think it's sexy."

"Sure, if you think having a fat ass is sexy."

Oh, how good it feels to be a guy.

"Well," I heard Katie's voice call out. "What do you think?"

I averted my attention from the group to look at Katie.

…Have mercy.

Her dress was strapless, fitted from the waist up, until it flowed away from her body at the hem. Katie spun in circles a few times. "Well?" she repeated.

"You look… good," I managed. "You look real good."

That's the understatement of the year.

Katie's expression fell. "Just good?"

"Katie, you look fantastic," I said seriously. "I mean it. You look amazing."

"Really?" She still looked hesitant. "What do you think of the back?" She turned around.

I might hyperventilate.

"It's nice," I said. "I mean, it looks good."

Katie turned around to face me and beamed. "Do you think Chris will want to marry me in this?"

"He'd be stupid not to."

Katie continued to beam as she gazed at me. Neither of us said anything for what felt like an hour. Now this is what one would call a 'moment.'

"Oh, just look at you!" I jumped a little as the lady who owned the shop began to fawn over Katie. "Honey, you look beautiful!" She turned to look at me. "You're a very lucky man."

"Er, I'm not-"

"Oliver's just a friend," Katie told the lady.

"Oh, yes, that's right," the lady said. "I've seen you in the paper before."

"Er-"

"Well," Katie said, sensing the awkward situation. "I think the dress is perfect. I'm ready to take it home."

"Oh, how wonderful!" the woman gushed. "You go take it off and I'll go ring it up." She hurried off and I turned back to Katie, who was studying herself in the mirror.

"This is it," she said softly. "I mean, this is really it."

I sensed an emotional Katie moment approaching, so I stood. She fell quiet, and I could tell tears were forming behind her eyes. "Come on," I said, leading her into a fitting room.

We sat down on the tiny bench and the water works started. She wasn't sobbing or hysterical; instead, the tears fell quietly. Noticing they were about to fall onto her dress, I dabbed at them with the hem of my t-shirt.

"Sorry," Katie whispered. "I just… I just can't believe that this is happening. I'm getting married, Oliver."

"Yeah, I know. But you're just nervous," I assured her.

"But I mean, this is a lifetime thing," she went on. "This is… this is the biggest commitment I'll ever make."

"Well," I said carefully. "Do you think this is the right choice?"

Her silence scared me. Finally, she spoke. "I honestly don't think so."


	7. Same Story, Different Books

(**Author's Note:** I am so sorry about the wait! I have one more week of school left, and it's all finals, meaning I've been studying/writing my ass off. But to make up for the long wait, I'll be uploading 2 new chapters! Count 'em, 1, 2. Thanks so much to those of you who read the last chapter. I'm so glad you all are following this. This chapter picks up right where the last one left off.)

**Still Oliver's Point of View:**

"What?" was about all I could manage.

"I just… I just don't know anymore," Katie said. "I love Chris, I really do, but maybe not as much as I should."

Finally.

…Okay, I guess I shouldn't be thrilled right now, when Katie's having an epiphany.

"Katie," I started. "Just the other day, you announced you were moving in with Chris. Now you don't want to even marry him? …When did you decide all this?" I asked.

"It's been on my mind for a while," Katie replied. "I mean, maybe I'm just nervous. Maybe I'm just being silly and dramatic. Maybe I'm just stressed... But it just seems like Chris and I just aren't on the same page anymore."

If you ask me, those two were never even in the same book.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked.

Katie shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "I mean, I think I just need to grit my teeth and keep going."

"Katie, if you don't want to marry Chris, you shouldn't. If you're even the least bit hesitant, you shouldn't risk making such a big mistake."

"I want to marry Chris," she said confidently. Dammit. "I really do," she went on. "I just… don't like the way things are going."

"Then maybe you should at least wait a little," I suggested. I was running out of proper advice, but it seemed like I was saying the right things.

"But we're so close!" Katie said. "Maybe once this whole wedding thing is all over, things will go back to normal."

Except Katie's idea of "normal" is completely screwed up. "Normal" is when she and I are together, wrestling over the TV remote. "Normal" is when Katie begs me to go on an ice cream run at 10 P.M. "Normal" is when Katie comes in my room at seven in the morning to jump on my bed. "Normal" is when I used Katie's toothbrush and she uses my razor. "Normal" is when we attempt to cook dinner, and end up eating half of it out of the pan before it's even ready.

"Normal" doesn't include Chris, in any way, shape, or form.

…Am I a little bitter? ...Nah.

"Wait," Katie suddenly said. "What did you mean, marrying Chris is a big mistake?"

Well, obviously.

"I mean, if you're not sure about him, don't marry him," I explained. "At least not yet, not until you really are sure."

"What about you?" Katie asked. "I mean, I know you don't love Chris, but you think he's an okay guy at least, right?"

I think my eye may begin to twitch.

"Well, he's not necessarily a bad guy," I started.

"But?" Katie urged.

"But, I'm not sure he's exactly right for you." An awkward silence fell over us and I glanced at Katie, who seemed to be staring off into space. "I mean, it just seems as if the two of you always have little problems," I went on.

"But don't all couples?" Katie asked.

"Yeah, occasionally," I said. "But not all the time."

"But if you liked Chris, you'd be telling me to try to make things work with him," Katie pointed out. "Oliver, why don't you like him?"

Maybe it was Katie in her dress. Maybe it was my ongoing frustration that had accumulated over time. Maybe it was the three cups of coffee I'd had earlier that morning. Whatever it was, it was enough. Call it courage, or call it truth, I was finally fed up with biting my tongue.

"Katie," I said calmly. "Chris is a jerk. He's rude, he's selfish, and he doesn't treat you nearly as good as you deserve."

Katie didn't respond right away, not that I'd expected her to.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you felt that way?" she finally asked.

"Because it wasn't my place to, Katie," I said. "I was just trying to be happy for you."

"But you're my best friend!" she exclaimed. "You're supposed to tell me if you think my boyfriend's a prick!"

"No," I said, still keeping my voice calm. "I'm supposed to keep watch over him and throw him through a wall if he hurts you."

Katie was frustrated. But despite the tense situation, the one thing I'd noticed was that she wasn't necessarily defending Chris. Realizing this must have increased my courage, because I pointed it out.

"Maybe you don't love Chris as much as you think you do," I said. "Because the two of you just aren't right for each other. Maybe deep down, you know that. Maybe you're just desperate to make it work, because you think it'll be easier." I hit a nerve. Big time.

Katie stood, her eyes narrowing at me. Boy, if looks could kill, I'd be six feet under.

"Oliver, who are you to tell me how I feel?" she demanded.

"Oh, I don't know," I said, my tone becoming slightly sarcastic. "Just your best friend."

"Oliver, just because _you_ don't like Chris doesn't mean _I _don't love him."

"Katie, you just told me you didn't think you wanted to marry him. You just told me you don't think you love him as much as you should."

Katie was stuck. She knew it, I knew it. I had her, but she was way too stubborn to admit it.

"I just," she started, struggling for words. "I just… can't figure out how this got to be so complicated." Her expression was no longer angry. She was defeated. She was lost, and I wasn't sure how or where to direct her.

In a perfect world, or at least Oliver Wood world, I'd advise her to dump Chris and go for the sexy quidditch star.

…I watch too much television.

Katie stood in front of me, looking sad and lost, which didn't make much sense with her wedding gown. We were making no progress here, and we were both feeling depressed.

"Why don't I love Chris?" she finally asked softly.

"Maybe you're just starting to realize that you two aren't as compatible as you wanted yourselves to be," I repeated. "Your relationship wasn't as involved in the beginning, so you didn't really have any conflict or differences. Maybe you're realizing your differences right on time."

"But this will put me right back to the start," Katie said.

"What do you mean?"

"If I… broke this all off with Chris, I'd be back to square one. And I mean, we've already come so far. And what if things turn out all right once we get married?"

"Katie, getting married won't solve all your problems," I said reasonably. "You'll just end up getting married to everything you don't want. You deserve to be happy. You shouldn't settle for Chris, just because he's convenient for you."

And finally, Katie smiled. It was a sad smile, but it was something. "How'd you get so smart?" she asked, moving closer to sit on my lap. Beneath the mass of white fabric, I looped an arm around her.

"Some people are just born with wit and good looks," I told her. "It's hard work."

She rolled her eyes at me and stared sadly at the floor. "Oliver, what do I do?"

"I don't think I'm the person to tell you that," I said.

"But you don't think I should marry Chris."

I sighed. "No, I don't," I admitted. "I've never liked him. I thought maybe he'd grow on me, but he's just not the right guy for you, Katie."

"So I shouldn't marry him."

"…Not if it were up to me."

A sad silence fell among us. Katie was sad because she wasn't sure what to do, and I was sad because I didn't know how to help her. We were both stuck, for different reasons, but at least we were on the same page.

(Review, please! I know, this chapter was a little dull. But read on!)


	8. Change Of Heart

(**Author's Note: **I mentioned this in a note in an earlier chapter, but a few of you must have missed it: Fred didn't die. Sorry, but I just can't let the guy go. So for this story's sake, he's still around.)

**Katie's Point of View:**

Oliver and I left the dress shop empty-handed and without much spirit. He had pretty much told me he hated Chris, and I had pretty much decided I didn't love Chris anymore. But there was still a part of me that wanted to love him.

Oliver was right though – I couldn't expect to just marry Chris to get my happy ending. Marriage would take work, no matter what. And marrying Chris would take a lot of patience. But we'd come so far. We've had so many good times together. I had more memories with Chris than anyone else, except maybe Oliver.

Speaking of Oliver, he must've recognized my need for distraction, because he decided to take me to Fred and George's shop for cheering up.

"Katie, dearest," George said as we entered. "We were just thinking about you."

"I don't think I want to know why," I said dryly.

"Well, we were talking about weddings," Fred started.

"And how fun it is to dance at them," George finished.

"And then we thought-"

"Wouldn't it be fun to dance during a wedding?"

"You know, down the aisle."

I eyed them with as much intimidation I could manage. "Don't you dare," I said through gritted teeth. The twins sighed.

"We were afraid you'd say that," Fred sighed. "Perhaps we'll give it a go at Oliver's wedding. Oliver, when are you getting married?"

"Last I checked, I'm not," Oliver answered.

"Maybe it's time we found Oliver a boyfriend," George suggested.

"I don't need a boyfriend," Oliver said hotly. "I'm not gay."

The twins shook their heads in unison. "Poor bloke," Fred said sadly. "In denial."

"I'm not gay!" Oliver repeated.

"Keep telling yourself that," Fred said, looping an arm around Oliver's shoulder. "You'll come out someday." Fred batted his eyelashes at Oliver, who pushed him away in disgust.

I shook my head at them as my phone began to vibrate in my purse.

Glancing at the screen, I sighed audibly. Chris.

"Hello?" I said softly.

"Hey," Chris's voice rang out from the other end. "Where are you?"

"I just got done with my dress fitting," I replied. "Now I'm at the twins' shop."

"Are you free for dinner?"

"I… don't know," I replied uneasily.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I'm kind of tired."

"Katie. You can spare an hour or two for me."

I sighed. How do you ignore your own fiancé whom you're supposed to marrying in just a matter of weeks?

"Chris, I really don't-"

"Please?"

I sighed again. "Fine. I'll meet you in an hour." I hung up and stared at my phone for a moment.

Dreading a date with your fiancé weeks before your wedding is probably not a good sign.

I met Chris at our usual restaurant and stared at the tablecloth as the waiter poured me a glass of wine.

"How'd your fitting go? Chris asked.

"It was good," I said quietly. Sensing that I was preoccupied, Chris sighed audibly.

"Katie. What's going on?"

"Nothing," was my instinctive reply. "I'm just-"

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

"Katie," Chris started, putting on his serious expression. "Why do you keep doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Lying. Being distant. Avoiding me. Jerking me around."

"Jerking you around?"

"Yes, jerking me around. One day, you ignore me. The next, you're fine. Then you're mad at me. Then you agree to move in with me. Now you're avoiding me."

I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his. Suddenly, I felt bad for him. Maybe it wasn't fair to be treating him so bad. His eyes weren't angry. They were sad and frustrated. I felt guilty. After all, all Chris ever did was care about me. No one else loved me like he did.

That's when I decided that I'd built so much up with Chris, that it'd be stupid to let it all go. Chris and I were a couple, and even though we didn't always see eye-to-eye, we loved each other. And these days, if you pass up on love, you don't get many second chances.

"I'm sorry," I finally said. "Really, I am." I gazed at him apologetically. "Chris, I've just been freaking out over this wedding. There's just so much going on, it's driving me crazy. And sometimes… sometimes, I just don't know how to act. And then you want to spend time together, and I just… I get overwhelmed."

Chris reached across the table to hold my hand. "I understand," he said. "And I'm sorry for always annoying you. I just… I'm just so excited about marrying you."

The romantic in me melted a little.

"I know," I said. "I guess all of the stress is just getting to my head."

"Well, I wish I could help you clear your head this weekend," Chris said. "But I've got to go out of town."

"What for?"

"I'm going fishing with my dad," he said. "You know, a father-son weekend before I get hitched."

"Oh."

I shouldn't be relieved. I was supposed to be upset. I was supposed to be worrying about how much I was going to miss him. But instead, I was flat-out relieved.

"Well, have fun," I said. "I'm sure it'll be nice, spending some time with your dad."

Chris nodded. "So what are you doing this weekend?"

I knew what he was thinking. Would I be spending the weekend with Oliver? But I was trying to be the good fiancé here. Tell him what he wants to hear, Katie. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"No, Oliver's going out of town or something," I lied with a shrug. "I guess I'll just get some more wedding plans taken care of. Time's running out, and I still need to pick out silverware."

Chris looked relieved as he leaned over the table to kiss me. "You're right," he said. "We're going to be married in less than two months."

**An Hour Later:**

I kissed Chris goodnight on the front porch and watched him leave. As I shut the door and locked it, I found Oliver lying on the couch, flipping through a quidditch magazine.

"How was dinner?" he asked.

"Same as usual," I replied with a shrug.

"So what did you tell Chris?" he asked, sitting up.

"Nothing really," I replied with a shrug. "He's going out of town this weekend. Fishing with his dad."

"But what did you tell him?" Oliver repeated. "About you know, postponing the wedding?"

"I didn't bring any of that up," I said, sitting down next to him. "I mean, I think all of the stress is just getting to me. I was overreacting. You know, the whole wearing-the-wedding-dress emotion thing."

"Katie," Oliver said reasonably. "Just hours ago, you said you didn't want to marry Chris."

Ahh, shit. I'd almost forgotten that Oliver had recently told me he hated Chris.

"I said I wasn't sure," I explained carefully. "Now, I'm sure. Like I said, my nerves have just been getting the best of me."

Please please please, be understanding, Oliver.

Oliver studied me for a few moments. Finally, he let out a sigh and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "Whatever you say," he breathed.

Thank Merlin.

A silence hovered over us, and I eyed the carpet.

"So," Oliver finally said. "What are you going to do this weekend since Chris won't be around?"

"No idea," I replied with a shrug. "I guess I'll do a bit of random wedding planning. What are you doing? No game this weekend."

"I just found out I have a wedding to go to," Oliver said.

"What? Who's getting married?"

"My cousin?" Oliver said. "I think. I don't really know. Some girl I'm apparently related to."

"And you're just now planning on going?"

"Well, I think my mum mentioned it to me a while ago," Oliver said with a shrug. "I just forgot."

Typical male.

"Where's it at?" I asked.

"Glasgow," Oliver replied. "So I'll be out of town too."

What? No. Who's going to cook for me? Who's going to watchsoap operas with me? Most importantly, who will I make fun of?

"Well, who are you taking?"

"What?"

"Who's your wedding date?"

"I don't have one."

Dear Lord. For being such a perfect man, Oliver sure is lost.

"What do you mean you don't have one?" I demanded. "Oliver, you need a wedding date. You can't just show up single."

"Why not?"

"Because," I insisted. "You're Oliver Wood. You're supposed to have bitches crawling all over you. In fact, you should have a girl on each arm."

"Katie," Oliver laughed. "Bitches crawling all over me? You know very well I'm not like that."

"Oh, right. Because you're gay."

Oliver gave me a look. Ooh boy, if looks could kill…

"Well, it's a little late now," Oliver said with a shrug. "I have to leave Friday, which is only two days away."

I sighed and rested my head in his lap, letting my eyes fall shut. "You're impossible."

"Better than being easy, like you."

My eyes flew open. "What?!"

Oliver grinned down at me. "I said your hair looks nice."

I continued to glare at him. "No wonder you don't have a date. No woman would put up with such horrible treatment."

"You put up with it quite well."

"Only because I have to. But you're right. I do put up with a lot from you."

Oliver rolled his eyes at me. "Right. Because I never put up with shit from you."

"You don't," I said, grinning up at him.

Oliver snorted. "Yeah, right."

Then an idea popped into my head. "Well, since I put up with you so well," I said. "Maybe I should accompany you to the wedding."

Oliver's expression turned serious. "Do you really want to?"

"Well sure," I replied, sitting up. "Why not? I don't have anything else to do."

"All right," Oliver said. "At least I'll have a bitch on my arm." I smacked him with his own magazine.

At least I hadn't really lied to Chris. Oliver really was going out of town. The only difference was that I'd be going with him.

(**Author's Note:** Review! And thank you for reading! You guys are the reason I write.)


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